Chapter Text
His hands were cold and reminded Ciel of ice-ferns. How beautifully they always bloomed at his window at the same time of year, remaining true to winter no matter what harshness it brought. How they obscured the view of the outside, masking the gloomy, sad world. How they were sometimes the only thing that made the snow and the frost and the cold bearable, if not wonderful even. There really was something magical about ice flowers.
The mark on the pale hand had a similar pattern as the icy sea of flowers. As thin as the lines had become, they resembled a fine layer of snow on a spring meadow, but they were black.
Deep black as the devil...
A single drop of ice, melted by the spring sun, fell down.
***
"Good morning, young master.”
Sebastian pushed the serving trolley with breakfast to his master's bed and bowed so low that he had to brush aside a strand that had fallen in his face afterwards. "For breakfast today we have grapefruit juice and porridge. For main course, fried breakfast bacon, small sausages and grilled tomatoes. Also, a toast and a flavoured Earl Grey as you like."
Ciel rubbed the sand out of his eyes and glances at the breakfast before looking up at his butler. Sebastian flashed his usual smile and helped the lord to change into his usual clothes.
Six buttons the shirt had, and Sebastian caught himself counting each one in his mind as he buttoned them from top to bottom. He had tried other creative, if somewhat monotonous, methods to distract himself from the dry feeling in his throat. The twinge just would not go away; it had even grown stronger like a parasite that once taken hold was instilling more and more poison into its victim. And it did feel like poison. But Sebastian had already checked himself thoroughly for toxic substances.
It was not poison.
"Sebastian?"
Sebastian already feared that Ciel had noticed something, but the young gentleman only asked about today's appointments and Sebastian rattled them off to him unfailingly.
"Good. You can leave now, Sebastian."
He bowed and left the room. When he was in the hallway, Sebastian felt a kind of relief he could not put into words. He leaned against the wall, took a deep breath, and raised his gloved hand, which was trembling inconspicuously. If he had not been looking so intently at his black fingertips, he probably wouldn't have noticed the tremor. He formed a fist, relaxed it, and lowered his hand again. There was no more trembling, just the shaking feeling that something was very wrong.
Sebastian decided to ignore it and disappeared into the kitchen.
Today's feast would take a long time to cook, so he wanted to start the preparations as early as possible. He cut carrots and potatoes into small cubes, paying meticulous attention to the lines, which he would have cut straight even if he were blindfolded. Uniform cubes, differing only in colour, formed an orange-yellow carpet on the cutting carpet, which was now joined by small, perfectly round slices of pickles. In between, cocktail tomatoes were bursting with their red juice.
As Sebastian freed the hard-boiled eggs from their shells, his sharp ears heard a noise. At first, he thought it was a meow – howsoever he could mistake this for a dog barking. He looked around but could not see an animal anywhere. But there were footsteps in the corridor. He clutched the small, sharp knife he was using to cut the eggs so tightly that his knuckles must have turned white under his gloves.
"A sick cook shouldn't be in the kitchen," Bard said as he entered the kitchen. The cook recoiled as Sebastian raised the knife and, in an act of elegant speed, turned the white cholesterol bombs into handsome slices.
"Sick?", Sebastian raised his head to look at the cook and....
"Shit, Sebastian!"
The cook stormed behind him and snatched the knife from his hand. Only then did Sebastian realise that he had almost cut his finger off.
"It’s not typical you to be easily distracted." Bard waved the pointed knife in front of Sebastian's nose and Sebastian could swear that one of the ends of his black hair had just sailed to the ground. He grabbed Bard's wrist and the knife fell to the floor with a clang.
“Thanks, but I’ve got it handled."
And with those words, Sebastian lifted the knife from the floor and turned to the last egg, from which an invisible drop of fear slid down.
Sebastian rubbed his eyes, blinked in irritation and stared at the egg.
"What's wrong?" Bard sounded genuinely concerned.
Sebastian shook his head, "Nothing," and sliced the last egg with an unaccustomed calm.
When he caught sight of the misshapen slices, he grumbled under a strained breath, "they aren't perfect."
Bard inspected the egg slices with a tilted head, "I don't know what's wrong, they look good."
"Yeah, good." Sebastian opened the fridge and took out a single egg. "But my master deserves only the best."
He closed the fridge with a ferocity that made the eleven eggs remaining inside tremble. Why he had counted the eggs in the split second he had opened and closed the fridge was beyond him. He pricked up his ears. There was the strange sound again.
"Don’t you hear that, too?" asked Sebastian as subtly as possible, while heating the water in a tall metal pot.
He couldn't see Bard's expression because he was fixated on the boiling egg, but he sensed irritation in the air. Maybe it was only Sebastian who heard that noise. He should ignore it, as he was already doing with the tickle in his nose and the sore throat. Maybe it would go away.
Surprisingly, a minute later, Bard answered him, "Don't you notice?"
Sebastian wheeled around, taking his eyes off the egg for just a second. Bard's eyes were filled with a ridiculous expression, namely that of concern, and in general the cook gave an impression of feeling sorry for an injured kitten. (Something Sebastian could relate to for some reason, ah, he was getting distracted again).
"What is it?", Sebastian prompted him. There was clearly no injured cat here, and no animal in need of help in the kitchen. It was already too late for the turkey.
"You’re coughing, Sebastian."
Sebastian pulled an annoyed face and turned back to the egg, which was enjoying its bubble bath. "Bullshit."
"You... you really don't notice?" Disbelief. Irritation. How could humans express such strong emotions through their voice alone?
Sebastian's voice, on the other hand, was cold and rough, maybe a little raspy, "I don't know what it is that I should notice, and now if you'll excuse me, I have this egg to take care of."
Sebastian blinked as he looked at his watch. Then he muttered with mild frustration, "How long has that been in there now?"
He hadn't even paid attention to when he had put the egg in the water, shame on him! But he had the feeling that the egg was done.
The feeling was a lousy traitor.
When Sebastian removed the eggshell, liquid egg yolk welled up towards him. He let out a sigh and shook out his hands, which now had raw egg innards stuck to them. He removed the one glove where most of it had stuck - fortunately his seal-less hand - and looked down at something snow-white. Shock ran through him but he kept his outward reaction minimal. Only his pupils twitched - or so he thought. Judging by Bard's shocked reaction, he had let it show after all.
"Sebastian, something’s wrong. You can talk to me. I won’t tell Ci..."
"It's all right." Sebastian slipped on his dirty glove and wiped the mess away. As he did so, he put on a smile that any idiot would have thought was genuine, but Bard knew him better; knew there was more behind it than mere frugality.
Bard's expression changed and it took Sebastian a moment to register that there was a gentleness to his expression and a warm understanding in his eyes.
"You know what, Sebastian? I'll take care of the egg and you can take care of your other duties." Apparently not being convincing enough, Bard added with an embarrassed but hearty laugh, "After all, I am the cook here."
Sebastian agreed, but only because he believed Bard couldn't go far wrong with an egg. Vivid burning fantasies bubbled up inside him, but he pushed the fiery thoughts aside, trusting - the word felt wrong, but he couldn't think of a better one - the cook with the matter. When he was in the hallway, Ciel called out to him. Now, he was needed at a different place.
Sebastian was running down the hall when it hit him like a blow.
Something brought him to a halt, as if fluid cement had spread to his feet and dried him to the carpet. Lead settled like a cloak around his shoulder, pushing him down. Sebastian pressed his finger against his forehead to keep his mind clear and to not give in to this crushing feeling and not to fall to his knees and crash onto the carpet. Ciel was waiting for him. The young master needed him. He-
Sebastian expelled a shaky breath as he sank to his knees. The weight was too heavy for his shoulder, his legs too pudgy to hold his sagging body. With hard effort, he lifted his hand, pressed it against the wall and held against it with the strength he had left. He tried to pick himself up, with a strength that had long since gone from him. It took him four attempts - he cursed each one aloud in his mind - before he was back on his feet. Shaky and weak, with a feeling of running into the wall at any moment, as uncoordinated as his steps were, but at least he was standing and walking again, even if it made him feel like a drunk. He propped his elbow against the wall and pushed harder when he felt his legs wanting to give in. He gritted his teeth, telling himself that it was only temporary, that everything was perfectly fine, that it wasn't poison, that it would get better in a moment, but his body protested with what felt like pain.
When he looked more closely at the sensation -which in retrospect turned out to be a big mistake- it was indeed pain.
Ouch.
It felt like hours until Sebastian reached Ciel's room. But since Ciel did not call out a second time - and if he did, Sebastian had overheard it - he guessed it had probably been little more than a minute. The strange sensation was to blame for his perceiving time differently. This feeling...
He hissed. He had to get rid of this discomfort. He could not possibly open the door like that and meet Ciel....
He stood in Ciel's room, every nerve cell fixated on keeping his body under control. The tension trembled inside him like a thousand shaking Japan earthquakes. Surprisingly, in reality, only his foot twitched, which could have been misinterpreted as impatience.
"What is it, my lord?" inquired Sebastian with the best smile the overstrained neurons could conjure on his facial muscles.
Sebastian shuddered as his master's cold gaze scrutinised him.
"I thought you knew," Ciel finally said, having apparently noticed nothing.
A single bead of sweat ran down Sebastian's forehead, but he caught it with his tongue and swallowed it. The bitter taste left a corrosive feeling in his mouth.
"Oh yes, your lessons, I forgot," Sebastian said at the same time as he thought 'Shit!'
His body was expressing itself with pain and he would have liked to hiss for this one to shut up, but his master was in front of him and it would have come across quite funny and....
He should stop standing around haphazardly.
"Sebastian?"
Ciel paced around him, scrutinising intently. There was something of Sherlock Holmes about the way he stalked around Sebastian, but in this case Sebastian felt it was not an honour but a horror.
That was why he started to move. "Your violin lessons, if I remember correctly."
He made a sharp turn, left the room and headed for the music room. His legs carried him quickly, for they were like pudding a moment ago, or... Sebastian floated for a moment and then tripped over an invisible fold of carpet. Behind him he heard his master's footsteps. Sebastian growled, heard the bark of a dog and jumped up. Too quickly. The surroundings didn't play along, creating dangerous waves that threatened to knock him over. Sebastian grabbed the wall and threw himself against it as his legs trembled and his body threatened to go limp again. He slid down the wall like a doll and stretched his legs out. He took a deep breath. The trembling was already resonating in his breathing. He pressed a hand against his forehead, rubbed his temples and tried to find an explanation for what had knocked him out. But the force was immense and, he reluctantly admitted, stronger than he was.
Sebastian closed his eyes to think – that was how he excused himself for a break. He just needed a minute's break, needed to take a breath, regain a clear mind, approach the situation with a cool head. Something seemed to be attacking him. A danger. Something alien. Something...
Sebastian breathed heavily. Thinking turned out to be a difficult task, especially after his head started throbbing. A sharp pain pulsed above his left eye, soon circling the whole side of his face and making him clench his teeth tighter. Maybe he really should just rest for a moment.
He opened his eyes as a voice tried to communicate with him through a sea. At first, he only saw waves that didn't give an accurate picture. Someone was standing above the surface of the sea and leaning down towards him. The outlines became clearer. Then he recognised a face. One eye looked at him with a mixture of curiosity and wonder, the other was hidden under an eye patch - Ciel.
Sebastian would have groaned with shame if he had found himself between the sea and Ciel. Right now he felt like nothing - Almost numb. Only slowly, as if he was waking up from a sleep paralysis, did the feeling come back to him. He could move, but at first he did so only with his fingers. He felt the hard floor, then something softer. The carpet.
"Sebastian."
Then he looked up at Ciel, slight annoyance now playing in his gaze. Sebastian must have ignored him more than once.
"I beg your pardon, sir. I can't explain this either."
Sebastian took a deep breath and heaved himself up. He used the wall to do so; there was no other way he could have got his lead-heavy body onto his melty-cheesy legs. By the time he could count standing as a triumph, he was shivering, and not just because of weakness. He was cold.
He looked out for an open window, but because of the blizzard that had been announced, they had already closed all the windows in the estate yesterday. Then his gaze fell on Ciel, who withdrew his hand. For a brief moment it seemed as if the young gentleman wanted to help, but that was... Completely ridiculous.
Sebastian coughed and this time he noticed because his throat burned terribly afterwards, as if he had spat fire. He just managed to hold his hand in front of it. The last thing he wanted to do was cough at his master. But his hand was heavy and he could barely keep it up. His legs were the same and Sebastian caught himself looking for other things to hold on to. But there was only the wall behind him and... Ciel's cane. The gentleman held it out to him wordlessly.
"I'll be fine," Sebastian assured him, but Ciel's gaze did not take ‘no’ for an answer. So, Sebastian leaned on the cane. He shifted his weight and promptly fell forward. Ciel stepped back, sending Sebastian crashing to the ground in front of him. From this perspective, Sebastian spotted a speck of dust on the ruby carpet.
Not helping, he thought to himself, cursing his poor form.
Ciel nudged him with the tip of his foot, "Hey, are you still alive?"
"Yes," it came out harsher than Sebastian had wanted.
"I'll get the servants," Ciel informed him and disappeared without a word. Sebastian saw only feet moving past him.
"Damn," Sebastian hissed when his master was out of earshot. He would have liked to hit his head if he had had the strength. His body was like a heavy mass that would not listen to him. Every movement seemed like an exhausting struggle that demanded too much concentration from him. Normally this was not a problem, but right now he was already overwhelmed with the burning in his throat, the swelling of his nose and the pain in his limbs.
Slightly overwhelmed, he corrected himself and immediately felt the consequence of it. His head was pounding and he was struggling to even think a clear thought.
And then something happened that he had not expected.
He seemed to fall asleep. At least he was only half conscious when Ciel returned with the others, doing something he could not tell…